“Who knows?” Eliza said. “She’s ‘special.’” She used air quotes around the word. “Apparently there was something or someone in the bathroom she wanted, and someone had left the door closed while he wasn’t home.”
Another glare shot in Rusty’s direction.
“I said I’m sorry, okay?”
“I don’t get it,” Jenny said. “What did that have to do with anything?”
“If we’re not home,” Eliza said, “we can’t leave doors closed to rooms. She won’t mess with closets, just rooms. I guess she goes looking for us and knows we go into rooms. If we’re home, she’ll sit outside the door and bark until we let her in. She tried clawing her way through our bedroom door when she was a puppy.”
Their friends gathered their things, said their good-byes, and five minutes later Mike was locking the front door behind them. He turned and pointed at Jenny.
She yanked her sundress off and dropped it onto the table, a sultry smile on her face. “Yes, Sir?”
“That’s better. Over the back of the couch tonight, I think.”
In the year since Jenny had convinced Mike to try a BDSM dynamic, their love life had exploded in a good way. Their twenty-six-year marriage felt new again, especially with their son off to college up in Tampa.
Jenny, now wearing nothing but a fuck-me pair of sandals and a smile, sauntered over to the couch, rolling her hips with every step and damn well aware of what she was doing to her husband. He worked on his belt and zipper as he joined her behind the couch where he grabbed her by the neck and shoved her forward over the back of it.
“Legs wide apart, baby,” he said, freeing his cock.
This was part of the reason he liked having game night here. Because as soon as their friends were gone, he could bend Jenny over whatever piece of furniture he wanted and fuck her silly.
Usually after spending the evening teasing her every chance he got with a stolen fondle or a quietly issued order to go insert a butt plug or vibrating egg.
Not tonight, though. He’d been running late from work and everyone else had been waiting on him when he arrived.
Tonight would be a simple, straight, delicious fuck.
After feeding his cock into her soaked pussy, he took a moment to pause, hands on her hips, enjoying the way her slick muscles grabbed at him. Then he lightly slapped her ass. “Maybe I should tie you up and fuck you tonight, baby.”
“You’re already inside me,” she teased.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t pull out.” He started to do that, noticing how she forced herself backward, trying not to lose contact with his cock.
A soft whine escaped her. “Don’t do that, Sir,” she begged. “I want you to fuck me. Please?”
Yes, at first he’d been nervous, hesitant.
Resistant.
Now he loved the sound of her begging, whether for a fucking or his new favorite thing, over-the-knee spanking with his bare hand. Everyone had warned him early on that his hard limits might expand the longer their journey through this continued.
Looked like their friends—and his boss, Tony—were all right about that.
He used his hands on her hips to shove her back against the sofa. “I thought I got to say how and when and where I fucked you, hmm?”
“Yes, Sir.” It was nearly a plaintive whine, now. “But I’m horny.”
“So am I.” Before she could further protest, he grabbed her by the hair, fisting it around his hand, and pulled her up. Leading her around the couch like that, he sat and pulled her over his lap.
She squirmed against him as he stroked her ass. “I think someone needs a nice spanking to get them in the mood.” He knew if he stuck his fingers in her pussy right then, she’d explode. He never went heavy on her with the spankings, just enough to make her ass a beautiful shade of pink and leave her tingling and close to coming.
With one hand pinning the back of her neck and the other on her ass, he started spanking her. The sharp sounds of his palm landing on her flesh echoed through the room.
After a moment, her squirming and squeals of pain soon turned into rhythmic humping and moans of pleasure as she found the sweet spot to rub herself against his thigh.
Hell, his cock was twitching, leaking pre-cum, close to exploding from the sight and feel of her body.
He thrust his fingers into her pussy and sure enough, she rewarded him with a long, low moan. Around his fingers her pussy contracted, pulsing, as he finger-fucked her. He used his thumb to rub her clit and enjoyed the way her toes curled, her hands drawing up into fists as she rode wave after wave of pleasure.
After he was sure she’d finished coming, he lifted her off his lap, bent her over the seat of the sofa, and knelt behind her. Once more, he sank his cock into her.
With a hand in her hair he yanked her head back. “Better, baby?”
“Yes, Sir,” she whined.
He reached around her with his other hand and started fingering her clit. “Don’t make me have to get the vibrator out to get another one from you. If you do, you’ll spend the night tied up with the vibrating egg in your pussy.”
She moaned again, responding, climaxing around his cock.
Yes. That.
Once he’d gotten it through his thick head that his domination of her could be more about pleasure than pain, he’d taken off with it. He loved tying her up and doing forced orgasm play with her, making her orgasm to the point she finally safeworded and he could then fuck her brains out.
And she loved it, too.
Now it almost felt like being newlyweds again, screwing like bunnies and wanting little more every day than to get home from work so he could figure out some new demented way to try to make her orgasm.
Once she’d finished coming yet again, he grabbed her hips and fucked her in earnest. This time, he wouldn’t stop until he’d finished and filled her.
And then she would turn around and suck him clean, something she’d decided she liked doing, and he damn sure wasn’t about to stop her.
She even gave him one last, smaller orgasm before his own swept through him. He dug his fingers into her hips, the sound of their flesh slapping together filling the quiet house, his satisfied grunt, her soft moan before they fell still together.
After catching his breath, he pulled out and rose, sitting on the couch. She eagerly dove between his legs while he ran his fingers through her hair.
“Such a good girl,” he whispered. “My good girl.”
Another whine from her.
She loved it when he called her that.
Why had it taken so many years for them to get to this point?
Oh, yeah. Because I’m a dumbass.
It was the same reason he’d fought it at first. Not understanding how much this meant to her, the brief mental vacation it gave her.
But now that it was a part of their lives, embedded in their marriage and their relationship, he wasn’t about to give it up, either. Not when he saw how happy it made her.
And making her happy was what made him happy.
Soft shnurfling noises escaped her as she greedily licked and sucked his cock, until, finally, he tapped her on the head.
She rested her cheek against his thigh, the warmth of her flesh migrating through his slacks. She’d sit there and suck him until he got hard again if he let her. Even if it took hours.
Tonight he knew he only had one in him, unfortunately.
When he patted his lap, she climbed up into it, her head resting on his shoulder. “Ready to head for bed?”
“Yes, Sir.”
She already sounded sleepy. They both always slept well after one of these sessions.
That was another bonus. He’d rarely had trouble sleeping now that they’d started doing this. He slept better than he had in years.
There was something to be said about living well and being happy.
“Then let’s head for bed, sweetheart.” He tenderly kissed her. “I’ll shut off the lights. You head on in.” He heard the soft patter of her
bare feet on the tile as she walked toward their bedroom.
Yes, heaven.
He didn’t bother tucking his spent cock in. Holding his pants up with one hand, he checked the front door lock, shut off the living room lights, and the ones in the kitchen. Then he followed her to the bedroom, the soles of his shoes lightly echoing down the tiled hallway.
I’m a lucky, lucky guy.
Tilly, Cris, and Landry
What’s that old saying? Something about a redbird in the hand…
* * * *
It was the rustle of sheets on either side of her more than actual movement in the bed that caught her attention. On either side of her, her men, Landry and Cris, had slipped out of bed. A glance at the clock told her it was only 4:11.
She lifted her head. “Where you two goin’?”
Landry leaned in and kissed her. “Early flight, remember? I’m getting in the shower and he’s going to make my coffee. And then come blow me in the shower.”
“Oh. Okay.” She dropped her head to the pillow again. “Have fun with that.”
Yes, she remembered now. Landry had a couple of business meetings in LA he had to take care of. Cris would stay behind with her and run the Florida office.
Some women might be pissed off that their husband never took them to LA with them.
Tilly wasn’t some women.
And she damn sure didn’t like early flights, unlike Landry, who never minded being up at the asscrack of dawn.
Tilly rolled onto her side, dragging Landry’s pillow into her arms as she tried to go back to sleep. She was vaguely aware of the sound of the shower starting, the delicious aroma of coffee filling the air, and thought perhaps she’d get up just to watch the hot man-sex action.
The next thing she knew, Landry was kissing her good-bye.
Peeling an eye open, she glared at him. “Evening flights are good, too, you know.”
He chuckled. “I am a creature of habit, love. You know that. Love you.”
“Love you, too, you damn sadist.”
Another chuckle. She heard Cris follow him out of the bedroom, the front door opening and closing. He’d drive himself up to Tampa to the airport there and leave his car in long-term parking. He’d be back in three days.
Then the front door opened and closed again. A moment later, Cris was climbing back into bed with her.
Instinctively, she snuggled against him, loving the way he draped an arm around her waist.
There was a time not that long ago when she never would have imagined this kind of closeness with Cris again. Not after what had happened.
Now…
Now she was glad Landry had brought him back into her life. And brought himself, as well. Two men were better than one.
Cris kissed the nape of her neck. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. We don’t need to get up yet.”
That was an order she would happily follow.
* * * *
The next time Tilly opened her eyes, it was daylight outside. The clock read 7:48, a far more reasonable time for her to attempt to face the world.
Next to her, Cris still slept.
Landry would be in the air already and on his way to LA.
Carefully, she untangled herself from Cris and headed into the bathroom. From there, she made her way to the kitchen for coffee. The pot had already shut itself off, but it was still warm enough to drink.
Cris joined her a few minutes later, giving her a good morning kiss. Naked, of course. Which she loved. She wore a short robe against the slight morning chill. “So what are your plans today?” he asked.
“I’m supposed to meet up with Leah and Loren about that Christmas charity thing Leah’s roped us all into.”
“You love it and you know it.”
“Yeah.” She held her mug in both hands. “It’s fun.”
He leaned back against the counter after fixing his own mug of coffee. “You could always go back to work if you wanted to. Not that we need you to,” he quickly added. “I meant if you were bored or something. Or you could volunteer.”
True, she could. Except Landry was worth a hell of a lot of money, and she’d almost had her house paid off by the time he marched into her life with Cris in tow.
She didn’t need to work.
And that was a nice problem she enjoyed having.
“I know what you meant, Cris. I’m not that bored.” She walked over to him, pressing her body against his, and kissed him. “I could always come work with you two.”
He snorted. “Um, yeah. Nooo. I’d pull rank on you if you tried that.”
“Why not?”
“Seriously? The only reason I can work with him is because I’m his slave. You two would be butting heads immediately, and not in the fun way, either. Trust me on this one. Let me save all of us the aggravation. And since when are you a programmer?”
“Oh. True. There is that.”
Cris set his coffee mug down, then took hers from her and set it on the counter next to his. He pulled her into his arms and stared down at her with his sweet brown eyes.
“Just enjoy letting us have you as a kept woman, okay?” He reached up and tucked a stray strand of her reddish auburn hair behind her ear. “It’s what I always wished I could do for you back then, anyway. I hated that you had to work.”
“I wanted to work.”
“I know. And I love that about you.”
She poked him in the chest. “And thank god I had school and work, anyway. I would have lost my mind. Worse than I already had.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
This wasn’t the direction she wanted the conversation to take this morning. “So how was shower sex?”
He smirked. “One-sided, as usual. He revved me up for your benefit.”
“Oh, goodie. Lucky me.” She rose on her toes and kissed him, enjoying the way his cock stiffened against her.
Yes, having Cris back in her life definitely wasn’t a chore, even if there was still one way in which she hadn’t been able to bring herself to completely reconcile with him.
Draping her arms around his neck, she asked, “So what orders did Master Fussypants leave you with?”
He shrugged. “The usual. Take care of you. Be a good boy. Yadda yadda.”
She sometimes helped Landry Top Cris in a scene. It had taken her a while to mentally get to a place where she was comfortable with that. Especially since her first relationship with Cris had been as his slave.
She never would have called herself Cris’ Top or Domme. Ever.
And she hadn’t yet been able to let herself slip into a totally submissive mindset with him again, either, even though in bed he and Landry frequently tag-teamed her.
Not that she was complaining. Not in the least.
The three of them wore matching rings, even though she and Landry were legally married. And she’d started wearing her fluorite pendant again, the one that had been her day collar when Cris had been her Master. A symbol. She wore Landry’s ring, and Cris’ necklace. They did both own her heart.
Hell, Cris had always owned her heart. Even despite the way he’d disappeared and released her the first time around, she’d never stopped loving him.
Even though she’d hated him at the same time. And herself, a little, too, because of her inability to quit thinking about him.
“How about a little shower sex of our own this morning before breakfast?” she suggested.
He grinned. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
* * * *
This morning, one thing Tilly had noticed before, but never really paid attention to, was how Cris made love to her when Landry wasn’t around.
Cris solo took charge in bed, almost animalistic if Tilly was up to that level of fun, whereas Landry’s slave Cris always seemed to defer to Landry. Yes, they would tag-team her and roll her eyes back in her head and leave her drained in the good way, but it was…different.
In a way, solo Cris was almost like having her old Master back.
Th
is morning, after they climbed into the shower but before they got distracted by their fun, Tilly decided to mention it.
“Why are you different with me when he’s not around?” she bluntly asked.
He frowned. “How?”
“Like this.”
He seemed to consider it. “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it before.”
Yes, she’d let Landry top her before. Usually if Cris wasn’t around, if he was out of town. Hell, she’d given herself to Landry as a birthday present their first year together, and that had been the first time she’d bottomed to anyone since Cris’ departure from her life.
They were well past all the pain and angst of their reunion, of Landry’s cancer treatments, of Landry’s anger at Cris for leaving Tilly in the first place—all of that. Water under the bridge.
They were over two years past all that now.
As she stared up into his eyes, she realized that one thing still missing from her life.
“I want to try an experiment,” she softly said.
“What?”
Then she did something she hadn’t done in…years.
She dropped to her knees in front of Cris, resting her forehead on his feet.
Something inside her soul slid back into place with a nearly audible click.
That missing thing.
That long-lost piece.
Peace settled over her.
For a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak, and she started to worry that maybe she shouldn’t have done this. That maybe in his headspace as Landry’s obedient slave, he wouldn’t or couldn’t step back into that role.
Then came the hand in her hair, tenderly gathering up the wet strands in his fist as he urged her to sit up on her knees.
Right at eye level with his stiff cock.
But he didn’t let her at it yet. He held her back, kept her from being able to swallow him down to the root the way she wanted.
“What are you asking me, Redbird?” he hoarsely asked.
Her heart swelled. It was what he’d always called her, his nickname for her, because of her last name, Cardinal.
Her voice trembled as she forced the words out. “For today, at least, I want my Master back. I want Cristo back. Please?”